Nightmares and Reality
by Daylily Gold
Summary: Two years have gone by, and after seeing Jack again, Ralph knows that the hunt continues. (slash)
1. Between

//Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Flies, and this wasn't done for an English project- though the book was read for English class.

Warning: There will be slash, eventually. This chapter hasn't reached it yet.//

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Between Nightmares and Reality

Ralph's eyes slammed open and he stared wildly at the ceiling, wondering what had awoken him.

His heart was pounding maniacally and his breath was short and loud, but the room itself was absolutely silent. Perhaps that was what was bothering him; he now liked to keep a radio running to remind him that he was in London, safe and sound- not in the seething darkness of a forgotten island, waiting for the shadows within and without to destroy him.

Paranoia had never quite left him, not even after two years. His eyes swept the darkness, searching for anything that was wrong or out of place. Nothing jumped forward to claim responsibility for his sudden return to consciousness, which didn't alleviate his fears. A good hunter would give no sign of his presence.

__

A good hunter...

It wasn't too much of a surprise when they had ended up in the same high school, Ralph thought bitterly. A lot of the island children had ended up going to the same doctors, as some kind of therapy. All the children together, trying to explain what had happened. And then, as Ralph had known they would, the doctors let all the children go after a series of tests for physical illnesses. No one had had to answer for the deaths of Simon, of Piggy, of the missing child with the mark on his face. No one had been blamed. What could one expect of children left in such a situation, during such a terrible time? The war drew more attention from parents and newspapers. No one had had to answer for anything.

Civilization had failed them again.

There was nothing waiting in the darkness. No beast, no hidden creature with a thirst for blood and pale, mad eyes. There was no hunt. There was no dance. There was no beast.

And if he kept telling himself that, someday it might come true.

It was strange, he thought, laying flat on the bed. Both Simon and Piggy had sworn that there was no beast, and they had been the ones to fall to it. He knew now, too late, what the beast had been. Too late; always too late.

His thoughts moved around in a lazy spiral, bringing him back to his upbrupt awakening. He had been dreaming, he decided. He had been dreaming about the beast; something he hadn't done in almost a year. 

He knew why he dreamed, though.

"Jack," he whispered, his eyes burning in the dark. In his gym class, of all places. How he hated high school. Staring across the noisy, crowded gym, unable to break his gaze from those pale blue eyes, fear and hatred and some undefinable emotion pounding through his veins like the blood that gave him life, Ralph had seen and known Jack. It was like being back on that thrice-damned island, knowing that the world and all its rules were falling away again and that the hunt was back on- but this time, it would be Jack and Jack alone who brought him down.

What was he going to do, though? Say he wouldn't be in the same class as a murderer? He was a murderer, too. He had helped to kill Simon; he knew he had. He knew that he was damned to hell, no matter what he did in penance. Because he had thrown his soul, the best and brightest gift of wisdom and law and order, away for the dance. He had thrown everything that mattered away for the chance to bathe in someone else's suffering and blood, for the chance to be part of the hunt. The best hunt.

He shivered suddenly and brought his blankets over his body, although it was still early autumn and very warm. There seemed to be a soft current winding through the air and his thin nightclothes weren't shelter enough. Come to think of it, the city didn't seem to be shelter enough. The beast was having no trouble at all finding him despite London's trappings of sense and responsibility.

He told himself to go back to sleep; to pass quickly into the next morning. Tomorrow, when the sun rose and the city woke in a bustle of normalcy, he would have no more reason to fear. Tomorrow he would be able to believe in the distance, both physical and spiritual, between hiimself and their island. Tomorrow he would be all right.

There only remained the problem of falling back to dreams.

//Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it.//


	2. Conquest, Defeat

//Why, thank you for the wonderful reviews! They are very much appreciated.

Note: What is soccer to Americans is football to the rest of the world. Why are we Americans so difficult?

Warning: It seems we have found the slash.//

****

Nightmares and Reality: Conquest, Defeat

Ralph swore under his breath when the ball slammed into his shin. The mob of boys was already descending upon him.

"Over here!"

"I'm clear!"

The shouts rang under the high ceiling and the gym fairly vibrated with exuberant noise. Ralph would have loved to play football with the same innocence of spirit as his classmates, but he could feel a steady, burning stare on him. He had turned once already and found Jack's pale eyes fixed on him, filled with something that Ralph refused to try to identify. This game, with all its sanctioned violence, was tempting the beast out into the open.

"Come on, Ralph!"

He kicked, trying to focus on the here and now, and let his pent-up breath out in a whoosh. He told himself that he should just not look over at Jack, who had been keeping to the other side of the gym for most of the game. Maybe he'd stay there.

Maybe.

The ball was hurtling down towards the other team's goal and Ralph watched it, not noticing when the excitement overtook his protective paranoia. He cheered when the ball seemed destined for the net, and yelled his disappointment when it was deflected. Then his heart jumped into his throat, for Jack Merridew had the ball and was running for Ralph's goal.

"Get him!"

"Stop him!"

"Go, Jack!"

The voices were faint and far away. Ralph moved without willing it so. Jack's expression changed ever-so-slightly into cold challenge as Ralph ran forward, intent on blocking. With a sudden, fierce grin, Jack passed the ball to a teammate and slammed into Ralph, bringing him down.

Ralph bit his lip when he jolted to the ground, losing his breath and tasting his own blood. Jack gazed down at him with glowing eyes, panting from either the run or that strange, unspeakable something that hid in his pupils. They lay tangled together in a silent, unbreakable instant, knowing again an impenetrable darkness.

The teacher blew his whistle furiously and the other boys crowded around, pulling Jack up and then Ralph, but the moment had branded itself onto Ralph's skin and into his memory.

He didn't even register the teacher informing him and Jack that they would stay after to run a few laps for such unsporting behavior.

When the realization finally came, as it must, Ralph felt sick. This wasn't good. Not that his teacher cared, of course. He and Jack ran in silent tandem, but the rhythmic pounding reminded him of drums and the smell of sweat reminded him of fear and the ache of muscles reminded him of hiding for so long, until one last break could be made for freedom and light.

Jack was an ever-present demon from the corner of his eye. It didn't matter if Ralph slowed or sped up, Jack was always keeping time. And his mocking gaze seemed to tell Ralph that he wasn't about to escape that easily: any good hunter knows the rhythms and habits of his chosen prey, and can fall into them with grace. There was no change he could enact that Jack couldn't predict and follow, there was not thought that flitted through his eyes that Jack did not catch.

The gym was growing dim though the light never flickered.

"Hit the showers." There came the final order. The boys were dismissed and the teacher began cleaning up the equipment, trusting them to obey. Sweat pooled over Ralph's aching body but he couldn't bear the thought of being naked and vulnerable around Jack. He couldn't skip showering, though; his parents were taking him out after school. They hadn't yet stopped trying to compensate for the days on the island, though their methods had become more bearable. He started to chew on his fingernail without realizing it.

"Get moving, Ralph," Jack whispered, his voice jeering and thick. Ralph whipped his head around to glare at him, ripping the nail down to the cuticle and releasing more blood. The stinging pain brought him back to awareness of himself and he swore quietly.

A long-fingered hand snaked out and caught his wrist. Ralph hissed, shocked, as Jack poked at his injury.

"Let go," he said harshly, pulling away. Jack released him with wide, falsely innocent eyes, holding his hands up as if in surrender.

He walked quickly into the locker room, feeling Jack's shadow on his back every step of the way. It was a relief when the other boy went into another row of lockers, but Ralph knew that this respite was short-lived. All he could do, he realized, was take his shower as quickly as possible and get out of there.

Ralph wrapped the small, school-issued towel around his waist and padded to the showers, intent on ducking in with enviable swiftness and retreating twice as quickly, but as he turned the water on Jack walked in, fully and gloriously naked.

Ralph bit his lip, not noticing when the barely healed cut broke open again. He tried to focus on the hot water knob, but Jack's hand was suddenly grasping his chin.

"What are you doing?!" Ralph yelled in horror, trying to back away. Jack leaned forward with a wicked expression until his face was inches from Ralph's.

"Why, anything I want to do," he replied. He leaned even closer and licked the blood from Ralph's lips.

Light and shadow exploded behind Ralph's eyes. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This wasn't supposed to be. Warm lips pressed hard and harsh against his own, slicking themselves with his blood. The light and the shadow were twisting together, becoming the same thing in the darkness behind his lids. The towel around his waist fell and a skinny yet muscled body was closer than clothing, trying to wrap itself in his skin. Everything was falling back into the warm, steamy mist of a long abandoned jungle. Arms caging him in and a heart that pounded against his chest, demanding to be let in and deep. The hunt was still on.

Already bound, he opened his mouth to let his captor take the prize, and he was invaded.

Ralph could taste his own blood on Jack's tongue, a heady poison that would drag him far into the dark. Forced down on his knees during that moment of terrified denial and subconscious acceptance, Ralph let his head fall back in animalistic submission. Something within him had known of this eventuality in the first primitive stage of the hunt: it was all about passion, whether bright or dark, and had nothing to with the order of things, because chaos had been programmed into the universe in the very same instant as order and jealously guarded its place in life.

But his fear and hatred and overwhelming sorrow for loss, for mortality, pushed at his mind and shattered the protective shield of willful ignorance. Ralph screamed silently into Jack's mouth and bit down hard, squirming and kicking until he was almost loose. Almost free.

Jack had kept a hold on Ralph's wrist and, snarling, pushed him hard to the tiled floor. Ralph's head slammed, sparking more shocking light shows behind his eyelids and making him moan in pain.

He felt the sleek, burningly hot body of his enemy straddle his own and strong hands gripped both his wrists. He was captured, he was owned, but he wouldn't stop fighting. Ralph panted for air and tried to ignore the pain lancing his skull. "Jack."

It was barely audible, but the boy over him tensed. Ralph could feel some of the madness subside as the reality of words, of names, was forced back into their shared consciousness. "Stop."

Trembling slightly, he looked up to see Jack's eyes blazing and to hear him whisper in a harsh, grating voice, "Shut up."

"Stop." This time he spoke with a little more force. "Jack."

The hunter dismayed. Jack backed away from this shocking taboo, distanced himself from a prey that had found one last desperate weapon. Ralph lay still, not willing to antagonize Jack further. And with cold, calculating eyes glaring once more, Jack walked away.

Ralph listened to the water drive itself into the tile like endless rain. He bit the soft flesh of his inner wrist gently, straining to hear if Jack was leaving. It was an eternity before a locker slammed shut and the door thudded back into place.

Ralph shuddered and rose, licking his lips and wincing as he tasted more blood. There would be a next time, he knew, and next time the stakes would be much higher. Two simple words would not end the struggle.

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"Then there was that indefinable connection between himself (Ralph) and Jack; who therefore would never let him alone; never."

//Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it.//


	3. Between Again

//Hi again! It's another 'between' chapter, where Ralph thinks- or, more accurately, despairs.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Lord's Prayer. See? It's the Lord's.//

It's strange how the dark acts.

One can stare into the darkest shadows of a room, staring with wide eyes and watching as it gets darker and darker, and then blink to find that it's darker than one could have ever imagined; blink to find out that what seemed so dark before was truly light.

Ralph never thought he'd have wished for the days back on their island. But there, at least, the lines had been drawn clearly in the sand. Life or death. Running or falling. The conch exploding into nothingness, Piggy falling forever and ever, running running running...

No. Don't remember. Not all of it, at least.

There had been none of this confusion; no question as to who was right. He had been right. He had been chosen to be chief. Jack had stolen that. But now it wasn't stealing, was it? He had wanted it. Jack could only give him a choice here, and he was afraid of the choice he would make. To want, to not want.

He lay back in bed, remembering and shaking slightly in fear and shame. The choice had been given. The choice had been made.

There was nothing left. He had wanted Jack. Yes, it was all very well and good to say that he had stopped Jack, had fought him back, but there was still the fact that he had wanted it. That, for one long and agonizingly wonderful moment, he had given in fully and completely. He had wanted nothing more than to let Jack own him, run his hands over every part of his body and finalize their connection. He wanted closure. Jack's mouth had tasted warm, crackling, spicy and sweet... Ralph swore quietly and slammed his fist back into his headboard, focusing on the most important thing.

He had betrayed the promise he'd made in the memory of two lost friends, when he'd made it back to civilization so long ago. 

He had prayed, silently but feverishly, to a god he wasn't sure he believed in any longer. That had scared him back into the habit of praying every morning and night. If he didn't believe, then how could he know that Simon, with his frightening insight, and Piggy, with his outcast's intelligence, were safe in heaven? How could he ever hope to earn their forgiveness for killing them, for not protecting them when he should have kept them safe?

Half awake, half asleep, watching the dancing shadows, fearing the dark- like a child! like a littlun!- he thought back to their rescue.

Standing on the deck of a clean white ship, distanced from the rest of his dirty clay-smeared peers, watching as the captain tossed two bouquets overboard. This is how we honor the dead. We say a prayer-

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Our Father, who art in heaven...

We sacrifice flowers-

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Forgive us our trespasses...

We promise that the Beast will never find us again in anything but our dreams-

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Lead us not into temptation...

We fall back into the arms of the hunter-

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For Thine is the kingdom, the power, the glory...

And all we can say is 'I'm sorry.'

__

For ever and ever.

"Amen," Ralph whispered aloud, closing his eyes in despair. He knew that the shadows were closing in, filling his dreams with their terrible poison.

//Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it.//


	4. Caught and Fettered

//So sorry that this took forever!  But life has been so hectic lately…  Family squabbles and moving to college and new baby cousins and all that jazz…

Green Eyes:  They're fourteen, freshmen in high school, and we won't get to hear what Jack thinks in this story.  Maybe in a sequel… if I don't fall over the edge of the earth again.

Warning:  Hardcore slashiness, anyone?//

**Nightmares and Reality: Caught and Fettered**

Saturday.  A day of reprieve.  Ralph let out his breath in a sigh, nearly falling sideways in relief.  On a Saturday, far away from school and everything connected to it, it wasn't hard to believe in God.  It wasn't hard to believe in miracles.

School had gone sour very quickly.  Gym was hell, as to be expected, after-

_Don't think about that now!_

But there were only so many hallways to walk in, and a person could quickly find out where another's locker was.  Even outside of gym, outside of the locker room, he couldn't avoid Jack.  It was only a matter of time before Jack tried to sit with him at lunch.

He snickered suddenly.  It wasn't really funny, but the image of it!  He started laughing almost hysterically.

It wasn't funny, but he didn't have a lot to laugh about these days, so why not laugh over this?

_Until it happens.___

He wasn't laughing anymore.

A shiver ran up his spine.  He suddenly wished he hadn't elected to stay home, by himself, while his parents went out shopping and then to dinner.  He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts anymore.

As if in answer to his unspoken wish, the doorbell rang.

_No!_

He stared wildly at the door, suddenly afraid.  But that was stupid.  Jack didn't know where he lived- he was paranoid, projecting his fear and shame everywhere-

But he didn't believe that.

He could pretend he wasn't there.  It wasn't for him, anyway (it couldn't be, no matter what his goose bumps were telling him), and anyone for his parents would just come back another time, right?

Except it could be a package, or someone in trouble, or even a neighbor who had seen his parents leave that morning checking up on him.  

And it could not be Jack.

Sure he believed that.  So now he would go and answer the door.

He touched the knob, drew back again, took a deep breath, and finally pulled the door open, nearly flinging it back, to the surprise of the mail man.

"Er… a package?" the man said, sounding confused, giving Ralph a strange look.

"Sorry," Ralph said breathlessly, reaching for the box.  He quickly signed the form, relief making him weak.  _See?  Nothing to worry about._

The bell rang again and he placed the package on a nearby table, opening the door with a considerably lighter heart, and felt that heart nearly jump out of his rib cage.

"Good morning, Ralph," Jack said easily, hopping through the doorway quickly.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" Ralph stuttered, stepping back.  His instincts were to run, or scream, or maybe both.

Jack shut the door and looked at him calmly, ignoring his question.  He looked almost expressionless; there was just the tiniest hint of a predatory gleam in his eyes.  They stood there, in a silent tableau, for maybe a minute before Ralph jerked to the side almost convulsively.

Jack reached out and caught his arm, snarling, "Where are you going?"

Ralph yanked his arm back and swung his right arm around in a fist, but shock and fear had left his aim off.  Jack ducked it easily and threw himself forward, pushing Ralph back into the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of him.

This couldn't happen here.  Not at his home, not at his only sanctuary-

But Jack's mouth was on his again, and he was kissing back, because it wasn't in him to fight anymore.  He had known already that he couldn't win this fight; wasn't that why his dreams grew steadily darker, until he could barely bear to sleep?  Wasn't that why he waited for this, convincing himself only outwardly that he was safe here?  Because he couldn't win, because something in him didn't want to win.

And because this was finally the end of the hunt, and at last everything was finished.  He had lost and now he could let go.

Jack's mouth slid down to Ralph's throat, nipping delicately and then harder.  Ralph remembered dimly that he had to fight, for the forgiveness of those now gone and for the salvation of his own soul, but it was too late for that, wasn't it?

_I'm sorry._

A hand under his shirt, burning hot against his skin.

_I didn't mean it._

Hips driving hard against his own, lips sliding back up to reclaim his.

_I couldn't stop it._

A harsh smile against his desperately pleading mouth, nails scratching down his back and a gentle, than rougher touch to his groin.

_I never meant to let it go so far._

And then he was on his knees, those hands wrapped in his hair, mouth open and swallowing deep.

_Forgive me._

Calloused hands brought him to his own release, and he cried out in pain and pleasure, in fear and acceptance.

_I can't fight the beast, I can't fight my fear, I can't stop when he's chasing me, I don't want to be caught._

And he was held, not with care, but with possessive pride and an angry, hateful sort of joy.

_I am caught._

//Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it.//


	5. Between Once More

//See?  I'm serious about updating!  This fic is close to finished- one more chapter.  I'm not abandoning it again.

Aw, poor Ralph... don't you think it's time he got a backbone?//

**Nightmares and Reality:  Between Once More**

Nightmare.

How he wished that it was only that.

Ralph stared up at the ceiling.  He'd been staring at it for hours now- his parents thought he was sick.  In a way, he supposed, he was.

Ever since he'd realized, really realized, what he and Jack had done, he'd been in a sort of protective daze.  He'd sat there, unmoving, held tightly in Jack's arms, until the hunter had pulled back and demanded that he look at him.  When Ralph hadn't reacted, Jack had grabbed him by the hair and forced him to look at Jack full in the face.

_"You're mine.  Do you understand?"_

_No. No.  This isn't real, this isn't true.  Go away and let me die._

_"Listen to me."_

_Oh god, oh please, make him go away..._

_Jack leaned forward, whispering in his ear.  "Answer me, or I'll mark you where everyone can see, and how you will answer their questions then, Ralph?"_

_Ralph had managed to gasp, "No."_

_A hand slipped up his side, roughly rubbing over his nipples.  "Yes."  Jack's voice was a sybilant hiss._

_"Don't-"_

_"Don't what?" Jack's voice was triumphant.  "You've already given yourself to me, haven't you?  What can't I do with you now?"_

_He fought his tears with everything that was in him- he wouldn't give Jack that.  Not that._

_"Well?"  Jack trailed his lips lightly over Ralph's neck.  Ralph shivered to feel the delicate brush of teeth.  "What's it going to be?"_

_"Yours."  A small, broken whisper._

_"That's right."  A pleased, possessive murmer._

_And I hate you with everything I am-_

_A last bitter thought._

"Hate you," he whispered again, bright tears trying to fall.  He stared upwards, willing the tears back, willing his pain to disappear.  "Hate you.  Hate you."

He could hear Jack laughing at him, hear the Beast trying to make itself known through his overwhelming hate, and he clenched his fists tight and whispered it again.

"Hate you.  Hate you."

He was dimly aware that he was trembling, that all his muscles were tensing to the point of pain.  None of that mattered though.  He was caught in the grip of a hatred he could hardly believe.

"Hate you!"

It came out as a kind of strangled scream, and Ralph quickly drew in a shuddering breath, hoping his parents hadn't heard.  Hoping they wouldn't wake up and come to his room and see him crying.

Because now he was crying, sobbing uncontrollably, trying to muffle the sound by burying his face in his pillows.  His whole body shook with the force of it.  

_Stop it!  _He shrieked at himself mentally, hating this weakness almost more than he hated Jack.  He finally managed to stop weeping, gasping and hiccupping as he calmed down.  He hadn't cried like that since leaving the island.

He hadn't felt this drained, this empty and somehow clean, since leaving the island.

The comparison gave him a pause.  Ralph rolled over, staring at the ceiling again with puffy eyes.  He felt... cleaner.  Crying had taken something out of him.

His breathing began to calm again as he followed this train of thought.  _Cleaner._

_Like I let something poisonous out of me.  Like I threw up something that was killing me.  Cleaner._

There was no more fear- he had no strength for it.  Likewise, his hate was gone.  He was tired, but his mind was crystal clear.

_The stakes are different here.  The game plan- that's different, too.  And the rules are different.  I don't..._

_I don't have to run, here._

The realization hit him hard.

_If I don't run, he can't chase.  If I stand here, firm in civilization- where no one owns anyone else- If I am not afraid..._

_Can I win?_

The rules were on his side.  If he said no, if he said never, if he wasn't afraid, what did Jack hold over him?

"I can win," he said to the ceiling.  "I can."

There were still tear tracks on his face, but a smile was beginning to blossom from some unlooked for hope in his heart.  "I don't have to be afraid of you."

The Beast was fear.  It had caught them on the island.  It had led them to destroy each other.  But it couldn't have ruled them if they had been old enough to control their fear, if they had been sophisticated enough to recognize that they could control it.

And he didn't have to be afraid here.  Jack was just a boy, just like him, and if he was strong and if he wasn't afraid then it didn't matter what had happened, what he'd let happen.  He could stop this now, because now was the time to stop it.

Hope becomes determination.  Determination fuels strength.  He would be strong.

If he didn't run, then Jack couldn't chase him.  There would be no hunter, there would be no hunt.  Civilization had failed him before, but if he stopped waiting for it to understand the nature of the hunt, and removed himself from that hunt into civilization, then it could protect him.  He was sure of it.

It meant that he had to be the strong one.  He couldn't wait to be rescued, because when someone else rescues you, they don't always understand everything that has to be fixed.  But when you rescue yourself, you know everything that has to be done.  You can stop your own nightmares.  You can build your life again.

You can live again.

_I can live with wanting.  I can survive that, because wanting isn't doing.  Because I can make the choice not to do what I want- I am a human, not an animal.  I belong to civilization._

He was strong.

//Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it.//


	6. Final Test, Finally Freedom

//Oh man!  I was going to complete this a looooong time before now.  Where the hell did the days go?

Anyway…  Thank you so much for the reviews!  I can't say that enough.  This is the final chapter of "Nightmares and Reality," but I'm planning the sequel… from Jack's POV.  So I have to ask you, the reviewers:

Do you want Jack and Ralph back together for good?  Do you think Ralph should be happy with Jack or depressed and somewhat suicidal?  Do you think Jack should chase Ralph but get no farther than he does in this chapter?  Your reviews will greatly affect what I write next.

Now go and read!//

**Nightmares and Reality:  Final Test; Finally Freedom**

Ralph could feel Jack's anger and confusion as if it were his own.

For a week, Ralph had treated Jack as if he was just another person in the hall, just another kid in gym class, just another someone who was not very important.

And it was driving Jack insane.

Looks that should have left Ralph blushing madly were now ignored.  Whispered comments that should have left him stuttering in shame and denial were now brushed off as if they were nothing.  Oh, it wasn't easy, but Ralph knew now that he had to stop expecting things to be easy, that he had to stop caving in.  He had to be strong.

It was worth it just to see Jack fuming.  Ralph knew that the hunter could not comprehend a prey that wouldn't run, that wouldn't even acknowledge the danger.  In an ordinary hunt, this would mean the prey would die.  But the object of this hunt was not to kill the prey, but to own it, body and soul.

And Ralph wasn't running anymore, so Jack couldn't give chase.

The tension was spiraling up again, though.  Jack wouldn't let this stand uncontested.  A little tremor of fear, a tiny stirring of lust, would flare up whenever Ralph thought of what the final confrontation would be like-

But Ralph always ruthlessly shoved those feelings away.  He was a human; he was intelligent and capable and civilized.  He could control his base emotions and desires.

It had just taken him a while to realize it.

The tension between them was so great that even outsiders had commented on it.  Kids from his gym class had asked worriedly if he and Jack were fighting, or something.  Ralph would always say something like "nothing's going on between me and Merridew," knowing that this would get back to Jack and anger him even more.

But his intuition, his logic, and his hidden animal senses were all telling him that tonight it was over.  Tonight was the last meeting, the last test.  Jack wasn't one to wait very long for what he wanted, after all.

And sure enough, as he was walking home, Jack fell into step beside him.

The silence should have been unbearable.  However, Ralph had gotten used to it, along with the fierce stares and the nearly inaudible whispers.  This seemed to throw Jack off; even now, he wasn't used to Ralph's indifference.  That wasn't how the game was supposed to be played.

Until now.

Ralph led the way into his house, not even flinching when Jack leered at the wall they had made out against… the wall Ralph had sucked him off against.  Ralph just barely suppressed his blush; he couldn't show weakness now.

He was strong.

"Are your parents home?" Jack inquired politely, a thin veneer of normalcy masking some of the anger in his voice.  Ralph shook his head.

"They're at a friend's garden party until late tonight," he responded, treating the question as innocent, rather than in the way that Jack had intended it to be taken.

"Very good."  Jack's voice was a lilting purr, and Ralph found himself turned around and thrown down on the couch roughly.  Drawing on all the self-control he'd ever possessed, Ralph lay there silently, refusing to respond in any way.

Jack stared at him in frustration.  "What do you think you're doing?!"

"How do you mean?" Ralph asked innocently.  Since Jack hadn't jumped on him, he sat up and acted like he had chosen to sit down.  It took a lot of confidence not to jump or even flinch when Jack darted forward, grabbing his chin and lifting his face up.

"Don't play stupid with me," Jack hissed, shaking in rage.  His eyes were burning with anger and Ralph fought his rising fear and desire.  This was beginning to get more and more difficult, though.

"You can let go of me."

Jack stood there, astonished.  It was really something to see.  His mouth was open, his eyes were blank… it wasn't a usual Jack-expression.  Ralph fought laughter; it wouldn't make this situation any easier.

"You-"  Jack couldn't continue.  He let go of Ralph and stood back, staring at him in anger and shock.

"Me," Ralph said, pushing it a little.

Jack's face turned cold.  "You can't pretend it didn't happen.  You can't pretend-"

"I'm pretending nothing," Ralph interrupted, sitting back comfortably.  "I kissed you.  I sucked your dick.  I admit these things."

This obviously was not the answer Jack expected, and he started impersonating a fish again.

"But I am not going to do them again."

"You can't just treat this like it's a- like it doesn't matter!"

"It doesn't."  Ralph knew he had to remain calm, or this whole thing was lost.  "I am stronger than that now."

"Stronger-"

"You don't need to yell," Ralph said mildly, earning another glare.  "I made a mistake.  I was weak, and I didn't fight.  I'm fighting now.  It's never too late-"

"It damn well is!" Jack exploded.

Ralph simply smiled.  "It's not too late.  If I am strong, then it's never too late.  Saying it's too late is a trap of the strong and an excuse from the weak."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Jack sneered.

"I won.  I don't need you.  I don't have to listen to my desires; I can tell them to go take a hike.  I'm stronger than that."  Ralph laughed easily.  "You see, if this were a regular hunt, you could kill me and still win.  But you changed it.  You wanted to make me weak- well, it worked for a bit, but now I'm strong again.  All you can do now is give up, because even if you do kill me, I'll still be better than you, 'cause I'll be a human.  And you'll just be an animal, a Beast."

"Take that back-" Jack started to yell, but Ralph cut him off.

"It's true, and you know it."  Ralph stood up.  "And now it's time for you to go, unless you have something relevant to say?"

Jack stared at him, totally at a loss.  Ralph felt the hot triumph rising, spreading all through him.  He had won.

"I'll see myself out," Jack said in a stilted, icy voice.

//Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it.//


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